Space Crime Conspiracy

by Gareth P. Jones

  ‘So you never found your brother?’

  ‘No. This spore search everywhere but brother gone.’

  ‘If you’re the only speaking one, I think it’d be all right to just call yourself Spore. OK?’

  ‘OK. This spore now just Spore. Spore fast learner, yes?’

  ‘Very fast. How can you even understand me? You haven’t got one of those universal translating things.’ Stanley showed Spore the stud in his ear.

  ‘Don’t know how. It easy for Spore.’

  ‘For me,’ Stanley corrected him.

  ‘Easy for you too?’

  ‘No, I mean you should say it’s easy for me.’

  ‘Lots of things easy for me. Watch.’ Spore stood up on his tiptoes then jumped up and somersaulted in mid-air. He landed on his head and bounced back up again. At this point he appeared to lose control. His thin limbs flailed and he cried, ‘Whoaaah!’ before disappearing down the chute.

  Stanley ran to the edge and looked down, but was instantly hit by the smell. He stepped away.

  ‘Spore?’ he called.

  ‘Talking to yourself already?’ said a voice from behind him.

  Stanley turned around to see that the cell door was open and a guard was standing in the doorway.

  .

  12

  ‘Just because there’s irrefutable evidence that you’ve committed the most high-profile murder of the millennium, you shouldn’t give up hope’

  The uniformed guard was a Yeren like Grogun, only larger and with darker hair.

  ‘Follow me,’ he grunted.

  Stanley asked where they were going, but the guard only spoke again when they reached another door. ‘In there,’ he growled.

  The room behind the door had a white desk and four white chairs in its centre. On the far side of the desk sat Eddie Skulk, wearing a pink and green striped suit. By his side was another man with a wide-brimmed black hat on his head. He had a large weather-beaten face that was almost human in appearance except for his pale blue skin and his luminous green eyes. The eyes turned purple as he watched Stanley enter the room.

  ‘Thank you, Officer. You may wait outside,’ said Eddie.

  ‘I got orders not to let this one out of my sight,’ said the guard.

  ‘Yes, but clause 807 of article 1669 of the intergalactic laws for fair imprisonment of a prisoner states that the defendant has the right to a short private interview with his legal team prior to the interrogation. You can stand outside. Thank you.’

  The guard growled in annoyance but did as he was told. The door slid shut behind him.

  Eddie took his bowler hat off and placed it on the table. ‘My secretary found me this to blend in on that pre-contact planet where you were hiding, but I rather like it. How are you, Stanley?’ asked Eddie.

  ‘There was this one day last year at school when I was chased by a dog, punched by a boy in the year above me and given detention by a teacher for talking when it wasn’t even me. Compared to this, that was a good day,’ he replied.

  The blue-faced man snorted in what Stanley assumed was a laugh.

  ‘Well, rest assured,’ said Eddie, ‘you won’t be kept here for much longer. I’m sorting out your bail. Dram here will act as your bodyguard and make sure you stay within the confines specified by the terms of the bail.’

  ‘Hi,’ said the blue-skinned man, whose eyes had now turned brown. ‘Dram Gurdling, private investigator, at your service.’ He had a deep, gravelly voice.

  ‘Dram will be helping me with the investigation too.’

  ‘So you’re going to help find out who really killed the president?’ asked Stanley.

  Eddie and Dram looked at each other. Dram’s eyes turned mauve.

  ‘Stanley Bound,’ said Eddie, ‘all the evidence points to you. You’ve seen the footage.’

  ‘Well, I know it looks like me, but –’

  ‘It’s more than looks,’ interrupted Dram. ‘That footage enables them to identify your species as well as isolate your specific DNA code. There’s no doubt in anyone’s mind that it was you.’

  ‘But wouldn’t that be the same if it was my twin or something?’

  ‘Do you have a twin?’ asked Eddie.

  ‘No.’

  ‘It wouldn’t make a difference if you did,’ said Dram. ‘The analysis is more accurate than that. Everything about it points to you.’

  Eddie nodded. ‘This is true. Pleading innocent really isn’t a good idea.’

  ‘But if you don’t even believe me, what’s the use of having you as my lawyer?’

  ‘My dear boy,’ said Eddie, ‘just because there’s irrefutable evidence that you’ve committed the most high-profile murder of the millennium, you shouldn’t give up hope. The pan-galactic, trans-planetary legal system is a rich and complex tapestry.’

  ‘And by tapestry he means it’s full of loopholes,’ added Dram with a wry smirk.

  ‘What kind of loopholes?’ asked Stanley.

  ‘Well, take your crime. It was committed on Armoria, meaning you will be tried according to that planet’s laws, but as it involved the murder of a global statesman it could also be interpreted as a pan-galactic coup, meaning it would fall under the umbrella of the galaxy-wide political-dispute laws. Then there’s your own planet of origin. Everyone has a right to have their own laws taken into consideration.’

  ‘But if the evidence is so strongly against me, will any of this help?’

  ‘It buys us more time to come up with other ways to get you off. Say, for instance, that on your home planet the murder of presidents is considered acceptable behaviour. That would help.’

  ‘It’s not,’ said Stanley.

  ‘Shame.’

  ‘But I’m not guilty.’

  ‘As your lawyer I have to follow your instructions, but I would advise against using that as a tactic. There’s too much proof to the contrary. Deny it and you’re making it easy for them. All they have to do is pile on the evidence that you did it. If you come clean then we can get to work on finding some technicality to reduce your sentence.’

  ‘I want a lawyer who believes me.’

  Dram’s eyes reddened. He leaned forward. ‘Hey, kid, no one’s going to believe you. You need to get that into your head. But with Eddie arguing your case you got more chance of walking free than with anyone else in the whole damn galaxy.’

  ‘And what exactly are my chances?’ asked Stanley.

  ‘What would you say, Eddie?’ asked Dram. ‘Ten per cent?’

  Eddie thought about it, then said, ‘Realistically, five.’

  ‘Five per cent chance of getting off?’ shouted Stanley.

  ‘Well, come on, face it, kid. That ain’t bad, considering what you did,’ said Dram.

  ‘I DIDN’T DO IT,’ yelled Stanley.

  ‘I hope I’m not interrupting,’ said Commander Kevolo, entering the room.

  .

  13

  ‘He says he didn’t do it. Fair enough. Shame he hasn’t got an alibi though, isn’t it?’

  ‘This is a private pre-interrogation consultation. You have no right to be here, Jax,’ said Eddie.

  ‘Your time’s up, Eddie.’ Commander Kevolo walked to the far end of the table and sat down. He had a bag in one hand, which he put down by his feet.

  ‘A lawyer is allowed a warning prior to the termination of the pre-interview consultation as specified in clause 811 of article 1669, third paragraph down . . .’

  ‘Your legal jiggery-pokery might work with the junior cops, Eddie, but not with me. And besides, you’re quoting intergalactic law. This case will be tried under Armorian law. Or aren’t you so up on our planet’s laws?’

  Eddie scowled. ‘I may not be Armorian, but I know Armorian law better than anyone.’

  ‘Then you’ll know that this is being treated as a case of planetary security and so pre-interrogation rights can be cut short. I should also warn you that this interrogation will be recorded and that footage may be used in the trial.’

  �
�Conducting the interrogation yourself, Jax? I thought you were above such things these days,’ said Dram.

  Commander Kevolo didn’t respond to this. Instead he addressed Stanley. ‘Stanley Bound, please confirm whether Eddington Skulk will be acting as your lawyer.’

  Stanley looked at Eddie, then back at Commander Kevolo. ‘I don’t seem to have much choice,’ he said.

  ‘Skulk, you can stay. Gurdling, you’re dismissed.’

  Dram Gurdling’s eyes turned black. ‘I don’t work for you no more, Jax. You don’t get to dismiss me.’

  ‘The accused is allowed one lawyer in attendance at the interrogation. Not any old ex-cop who decided he could earn more by helping crooks wheedle their way out of trouble than by bringing them to justice.’

  ‘It wasn’t just the money.’

  ‘Well, you can leave now,’ said Commander Kevolo, ‘or do you want me to call a couple of guards to throw you out, moonboy?’

  Dram stood up. For a moment Stanley thought he was going to hit Commander Kevolo, but instead he turned and spoke to Stanley. ‘Good luck, kid,’ he said, before leaving the room.

  ‘Stanley, shall we cut this short? Tell me why you killed the president,’ said Commander Kevolo.

  ‘You don’t have to answer that,’ said Eddie. ‘The question is based on a number of unsubstantiated assumptions.’

  ‘Unsubstantiated assumptions?’ Commander Kevolo laughed. ‘Get Mr Dictionary over there. Stanley, you can listen to your lawyer or we can do this the simple way. Why did you do it? Who are you working for? Is it Quil Tisket or General P’Tang? Or is there some new offshoot of the League that you represent?’

  ‘I’ve never heard of those people.’

  ‘Come on, don’t insult my intelligence. You think we’re not aware of the activities of the League?’

  ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about,’ said Stanley. ‘I didn’t do it.’

  Commander Kevolo slammed a palm down on the desk and looked at Eddie. ‘Hah, you’re going for flat denial, are you?’

  ‘No,’ said Eddie. ‘I request five more minutes with my client before the interrogation begins.’

  ‘No deal, Skulk. You’ve had your time. So you’re innocent, eh, Stanley? Is that what you’re saying?’

  ‘No,’ said Eddie.

  ‘Yes,’ said Stanley. ‘Look, this is stupid. I didn’t do it. I’d never even left Earth before you arrested me. And the first I’d heard of President what’s-his-face was when I saw that footage of someone who looked just like me killing him.’

  Eddie’s head was in his hands.

  Commander Kevolo said, ‘I see. Then I imagine you have an alibi, someone who can vouch for your whereabouts when it happened.’

  ‘I don’t even know when it happened.’

  ‘In Earth time, it was last Wednesday at three twelve in the morning.’

  ‘But that’s the middle of the night,’ exclaimed Stanley.

  ‘Which means?’

  ‘I was asleep.’

  ‘So no alibi then?’ said Commander Kevolo.

  ‘Please, Stanley,’ said Eddie. ‘As your lawyer I strongly advise that you stop this and listen to me.’

  ‘Oh, give the boy a break,’ said Commander Kevolo. ‘He says he didn’t do it. Fair enough. Shame he hasn’t got an alibi though, isn’t it?’

  ‘I don’t care what you say, I know I didn’t do it and I’m not going to say I did. You can’t prove I did it, because I know I didn’t,’ said Stanley.

  Commander Kevolo reached into his bag and pulled out a transparent plastic bag, with a gun inside. ‘Recognise this?’

  ‘No,’ said Stanley honestly.

  ‘This is a Series 12, third-generation, self-cleaning Dashle antimatter blaster, known by those who use it as the Damblaster.’

  ‘I’ve never even held a normal gun, let alone that thing,’ said Stanley.

  ‘We’ll see about that.’ Commander Kevolo pulled two thin plastic gloves from his pocket and slipped them on before removing the gun from the bag, hand-ling it with great care.

  ‘You’ve seen the footage. This was the gun dropped at the crime scene. It hasn’t been handled since. Please, try it out.’ He held the gun for Stanley to take. ‘Don’t worry, it’s not loaded – there would be a red light on the side.’

  Stanley looked at Eddie, who shook his head.

  ‘You want to get my fingerprints on it,’ said Stanley.

  Commander Kevolo laughed. ‘Fingerprints? These aren’t the Dark Ages, boy. As you know, we already have compelling evidence that you were the one who killed the president. But you see, this version of the Damblaster is fitted with an individualised memory handle.’

  ‘What’s that mean?’ asked Stanley.

  ‘It means that the handle moulds to the specifications of the individual gun holder,’ Eddie answered.

  ‘If you weren’t the one holding the gun, the handle will have to adjust when you take it now,’ said Commander Kevolo.

  ‘As your lawyer, I strongly advise against taking that gun,’ said Eddie.

  ‘You’re adamant it wasn’t you. Now’s the time to prove it,’ said Commander Kevolo.

  ‘Please don’t,’ warned Eddie.

  ‘I’m innocent.’ Stanley reached out a hand and took the gun.

  The gun lit up and emitted several beeps. ‘Processing individualised memory handle . . .’ Stanley barely had a moment to register how comfortable the gun felt in his hand before the electronic voice said, ‘No adjustment required.’

  .

  14

  ‘Mine’s the purple turtle’

  Stanley had been dreaming that he was standing in Ms Foster’s English class, reading out a passage from a boring play while the rest of the class ignored him, when he was awoken by the same guard as before, standing over him and shaking him by the shoulder. Looking up at the big hairy face, he realised that this was the first time ever that being awake was actually less believable than the dream from which he had just awoken.

  ‘Come on, you’ve made bail.’ The guard hauled him to his feet and tugged him towards the door.

  Stanley rubbed his eyes drowsily and paused in the doorway to look back. ‘Spore?’ There was no sign of him.

  ‘Stop talking and start walking,’ said the guard, pushing Stanley down the corridor.

  At the end an Armorian sergeant with three arms was standing by a heavy metal door. His third arm was so well positioned for holding his clipboard that Stanley wondered whether it was possible that the Planner had caused it to grow solely for that purpose.

  ‘Prisoner 1675 for bail release,’ said the guard.

  The AIP sergeant looked at Stanley. ‘Stick out your tongue.’

  ‘Why?’ asked Stanley, suspiciously.

  ‘We need to tag you to prevent you leaving Armorian jurisdiction.’

  Stanley remembered the stud in Boosky’s tongue. ‘Can’t you put it in my ear like the translating thing?’

  ‘We used to do that, but too many of you were chopping off their ears to avoid being caught. We’ve found people are more reluctant to lose their tongue. Now, if you want to go through that door, stick out your tongue.’

  Stanley stuck out his tongue and felt the cold nozzle of the gun against the top of it. He shut his eyes and braced himself for the pain. But when it came it was more of a shock. At the sudden jabbing sensation he whipped his tongue away.

  ‘There, that wasn’t so bad, was it?’ said the sergeant.

  ‘Big baby,’ said the guard.

  Stanley lifted a finger to his mouth and felt a hard stud in it.

  The officer read out loud from his clipboard. ‘Stanley Bound, the conditions of your bail state that you cannot leave the Z1 sector, you are banned from travelling in cutspace and you must stay with your guardian at all times. Fail to do so and we will activate the tag in your tongue. This will send a powerful electromagnetic surge through your body, which can, in certain life forms, result in headaches and mild irritation followed by
death. Do not attempt to remove the tag yourself. It is set with a unique code which must be entered before removal. Failure to do this will cause the aforementioned side effects, including your own demise. Please sign here to show that you agree to these conditions.’ He held out the clipboard and a silver pen.

  ‘Why would I agree to that?’

  ‘Because otherwise you’ll go back to that cell until your trial.’

  Stanley took the pen and signed his name at the bottom of the incomprehensible document.

  The officer took the clipboard back with his third arm and pressed a button next to the door, causing it to slide open. On the other side Dram Gurdling was leaning against a wall, his head tilted down so that his hat obscured his face. He looked up and Stanley saw that his eyes were the same shade of light blue as his face.

  ‘He’s all yours,’ said the sergeant. ‘Just make sure you keep him within the boundaries of his bail, moonboy.’

  Dram’s eyes turned an angry burgundy. ‘Come on, kid. Let’s get moving,’ he growled.

  Stanley followed him down a series of corridors. Dram walked so quickly that it was difficult to keep up.

  ‘Where are we going?’

  ‘To my ship, but we’re taking a detour to cut down the number of journobots we meet. Eddie don’t want you giving no interviews. Luckily I used to be a cop here so I know a few short cuts.’

  They turned a corner and Dram walked smack-bang into a large hairy AIP officer.

  ‘Watch where you’re going,’ snarled the Yeren.

  ‘Watch who you’re telling to watch. I’m going to my ship.’

  ‘Not this way you’re not. This is a restricted area.’

  Dram turned round and led Stanley back up the corridor.

  ‘How long ago did you say you worked here?’ asked Stanley.

  Dram’s eyes turned pink. ‘It’s been a while,’ he admitted. ‘I didn’t like the way that Armoria uses the police to protect its own self-interests. And besides, Eddie pays a whole lot better. Hold on . . . Listen.’

  Dram held an arm in front of Stanley. With the other hand, he pushed a button on the wall. A door slid open, revealing a utility cupboard. ‘Quick. In here.’ He pulled Stanley inside and the door closed behind them.